I Hope You Dance

Okay, so I”ve been avoiding this post for a couple of days now – 5, to be exact – and not for the reasons you would think. Sunday was the 4 year anniversary of my mother’s death. Those of you who have been around long enough to experience even one of these anniversaries know that it’s no picnic to be around Stephanie during those days. But this year was different. Not that it’s ever any easier, but I found a more positive way to cope. The reason I’ve been putting off writing this post is because I desperately wanted to include a picture from when I was a kid of my mom and I. But I can’t. Along with all but one of my pictures of mom, I do not have them electronically, and my lazy butt hasn’t made time to go do so at wally world. [Hope to have time to accomplish that this weekend so I can follow up with it.]

Anyways, there is one particular picture of mom and I that I wanted to post. And ironically, you cannot even see her face, but it’s still my favorite. I was 3 or 4 years old and we were at the house we had with my biological father. We were outside, and he had done something to make me run away from him - maybe tickle me or something – and I hid behind my mom’s legs. He then took a picture of this moment, and I think it depicts exactly the relationship I had with my mom – and what I’ve missed so badly these past four years – comfort. She was my shelter, my safe place, my only place I could ever call home. We moved a lot when I was a kid. . every two years, so I never really got attached to a house or school or even friends. She and my biological father got a divorce right around the time that picture was taken, when I was a toddler. So it was my mom and I for quite a few years – me and her against the world. I had no clue then, but later realized that we actually had it pretty hard money-wise and there were things that I never knew about that she had to deal with. She was the strongest woman I’ve ever met. She had lived through some hard times and was determined to show me the world as it was, not sugar-coated, or as Disney depicted it. It wasn’t necessarily a negative way of thinking, more of a realistic way. To this day, I appreciate it. My mom was the type to never hide anything from me. So when I asked about a ’grownup’ topic at a young age, she’d just tell me. She was honest. An honest you don’t find in most people. Thoughts of my childhood make me smile because of her.

But as negative as parts of that last paragraph sound, I have some of the most wonderful experiences with my mom. It was always fun, we were always laughing. One of my last and favorite memories with my mom was going to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta for a school project – one of the most amusing days of my life. It’s not that we didn’t appreciate the art, we just found a different way of looking at it. Specifically the ‘thinking man.’ We giggled for hours because he was clearly wondering why he was so cold??? (And that his penis clearly proved that!) We had pizza and shopped around Little Five. It was such a simple day, yet perfect. She was my best friend. She was my home. It didn’t matter where we lived or what we were facing, I always felt safe with my mom.

There are 19 years worth of stories I could sit and write about, and most likely will at a later date. Her life and her death made me appreciate the world and the people in it – because it could all be gone at any second. There was a song, that we called ‘ours’ that is now so very close to my heart. I think it truly sums up my way of thinking, and I thank her for that.

Lee Ann Womack – I Hope You Dance

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you’ll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance, I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they’re worth taking
Lovin’ might be a mistake
But it’s worth making
Don’t let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)

I love you mom.